


A Study in Kink

by the_noble_bachelorette84



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Cuffs, F/M, NSFW, S&M, Sherlolly - Freeform, Smut, blindfold, crop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1447750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_noble_bachelorette84/pseuds/the_noble_bachelorette84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We find our favorite couple in a room in one of London’s best five-star hotels. It has been equipped with many kinky supplies in an attempt to make it feel like a makeshift dungeon. Molly has been lashed to the bed using a sophisticated system of straps and tie downs with which the mattress has been fitted. She is just in bra and panties, but is also wearing a thick black blindfold over her large, kind brown eyes. She couldn’t see a clock and couldn’t tell how long Sherlock had been in the bathroom. Five minutes? Maybe fifteen? Maybe an hour! The suspense was painful, which made the time pass even more slowly. She hears the door of their bathroom open and waits eagerly for her lover to approach. She can’t see him, much to her despair, but she hears his breathing, and then his sultry baritone voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Study in Kink

“Do you know why you are here, Miss Hooper?” The sound was lower than normal. Had he had a smoke?  
“Yes, Mr. Holmes, sir.” Every nerve in her body was pulled as tight as the strings on Sherlock’s violin, begging to be played.  
“And why is that?”   
“Because I’ve been terribly bad, sir.”  
“Quite right. Do you know what becomes of bad girls, Miss Hooper?”  
“They are punished, sir.”  
“Correct again. Do you know how I’m going to punish you tonight?”  
“However you see fit, sir.”   
“You’re batting a thousand today. Let’s start with the riding crop. How does that sound to you?”  
“If it pleases sir, it pleases me.”   
“Terrific answer, even though it didn’t matter anyway. This is my show, Miss Hooper. Now, let’s get to it!” She felt the leather tongue of the crop brush lightly over the skin of her ankle, travelling up her calf over her knee and veering toward her inner thigh. It passed too quickly over the sensitive flesh that was currently covered in black lace. He dragged it lightly over her belly and between her breasts, soon finding her neck and jaw.  
“Every sensation you feel tonight, you feel because I allow it. If you do as I say, those sensations will feel pleasurable. If you continue on in bad behavior, you will feel pain. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, sir.” Why did neither of these options seem better than the other? Was she a sick human being? She would not describe herself as a masochist, but for Sherlock Holmes, she would endure all.  
“If you feel uncomfortable or wish to stop at any point, please say ‘river’ and I will cease.”  
“I understand, sir.”  
“Be utterly still and as silent as possible.” He said, inches from her red, warm ear.   
This was easier said than done a second later. She felt the lash of the crop on an exposed section of breast. She squeaked a stifled groan. Another fell on her hip, and then a light pop on her forearm. She didn’t know where he would go next, and it was very arousing.   
He continued his assault all over her body eventually finding her lace-covered nipples. He swatted each a few times, causing them to stiffen. He ran the crop down her abdomen and over the warm and moist skin where her thighs met. She felt the leather leave her flesh, but return quickly with a pleasant sting through the thin fabric of her thong.   
She bit her lip to keep from crying out. He continued on this area, bringing her to the very brink before snatching her back from the edge. She was now chewing on her lip furiously, and concentrating harder than she ever had before on remaining completely still and letting Sherlock take her only where he wanted her to go.   
“Yes, good girl. Keep this up and there’s a special treat for you! Now I want to turn you over.”  
He walked around to each cuff and unhooked it from the straps that ran under the mattress.  
“Lie face down exactly where you were, my love.”  
“Yes sir” She quickly flipped over and splayed her body out as it had been before. Sherlock refastened the cuffs to the straps.  
“Now, you’ve been quite wicked, haven’t you Molly?”  
“Quite wicked, sir!”  
“Right, so would you like a few more licks of the crop to redden that lovely arse of yours?”  
The word “lick” coming off of his tongue was the most explicit of pornography, and it made her groan out the sentence as if each word pained her. “Yes, please sir!”  
“Well, you’re out of luck. You get the hand, instead.” He was going to spank her? Oh, that was much better, but she wasn’t letting on.  
“Whatever sir wishes, I shall comply.” Not that she had a choice, really. She was at his mercy trussed up like this.   
“Right you are!” He reached for a pillow, lifted her hips off the bed, and slid the pillow under them so that her back did not extend to the point of discomfort. He ran his hands from her shoulder blades lightly down her back, squeezing her buttocks gently and continued down to her ankles, and gave her heels a quick rub before interrupting the contact.   
There was something different about his touch tonight. What was it? She felt him mount the bed and swing one leg over her back, and felt his hand make harsh and delicious contact with the skin of her ass. Then it hit her, both literally and figuratively, that Sherlock was wearing his leather gloves. They were for driving, but very warm, and she’d always thought that if his hands MUST be covered, these gloves were the only way to go.   
She felt another blow land on the other cheek. As he alternated between the two sides, he began to rock ever so slightly against her body, and she felt him hardening beneath what was almost certainly a pair of jeans.   
She loved him in jeans.   
Smack.   
She loved the way they were just tight enough in the back to show off his perfect ass.  
Smack.  
She loved the way they were cut in front to display the outline of his package.  
Smack.  
His substantial package.  
Smack.  
I wonder what shirt he’s wearing…if he’s even wearing one!   
Smack, smack, smack, smack.  
His assault was tantalizing. He halted his punishment to run his gloved hands down her thighs, squeezing as he went, and back up, repeating several times.  
“This blush on your skin, Molly. I can’t express what it does to me.” He caressed one side of her bum gently with his gloved hand, planting the softest and most chaste of kisses on it, and then repeating the action on the other side.  
“I’m going to unfasten you, and you’re going to turn over.” He said as he swung his leg back over her and off the bed entirely.   
He was so long, and lean, and graceful. She couldn’t grasp how he even worked sometimes. Like cats. They often behave more like liquids than solids. And that was exactly how her Sherlock moved. At least, she was pretty sure that’s what he’d looked like while dismounting. She was, after all, still blindfolded and faced down.   
She’d anticipated that he would just unclip her cuffs like he did before, but she felt his hands, now gloveless, pulling at the Velcro around her wrist. It was welcome. Not that she minded it in these circumstances, but her wrists were a bit sensitive, and she didn’t even wear that many bracelets for that reason. He followed with the ankle cuffs, and then the other hand. He even removed the blindfold, and she could see, with delight, that he was wearing no shirt at all.   
“I think the dungeon activities are over for the night, darling.” He said, also relieving her of her bra.   
He pulled that last wrist up to his mouth, rolling her over as he did, kissed the flesh that was no longer covered with cuff and continued up her arm. These kisses were so soft and sweet it was indecent. They were warm, moist, lingering kisses, and he delivered them with an almost reverent adoration that was apparent by the way his eyes closed and his brow furrowed.   
When he reached her upper arm, he grabbed both wrists gently and pinned them over her head. “Well, maybe a little more kink.” He grinned impishly as he hungrily pressed his lips to hers. She opened her mouth, pleadingly. Their tongues danced and her hips thrust up, lace meeting denim, longing for contact with his body in every way she could. He moved to her neck and ears. The ministrations of his mouth paired with the feeling of his hardening length against her thigh made her breathless with need.   
He worked his way down her neck leaving warm moisture behind that made her shiver as it cooled on her skin. He dragged his hands slowly down her arms as he explored the smooth plane above her breasts. She gasped as his soft and supple lips fell on her taut nipple. She both saw and felt the smug grin grace his face at the sound of her pleasure. He kneaded and kissed and lapped at her but only for a few short moments. He was of singular focus tonight.   
He continued down her writhing body with purpose, continuing the planting of moist kisses on her lovely fair skin, his hands trailing in tandem with his mouth. He must have caressed every inch of her body by now…save one area, that is.   
Her breathing had become more and more shallow. She was already so ready for him, she had a feeling this wouldn’t take long.   
He removed her black lace thong slowly. Diabolically slowly, as if to torture her. She had not been this close to using their safe word all night!   
He cast the garment aside gleefully. He could be such fun sometimes. A part of her wished that he would show it to the world so they’d love him as much as she did. But another part of her was glad that he seemed to reserve that part of himself for her alone.   
He began planting soft kisses on her thighs, every touch of his skin sparking her desire anew, promising to ignite her. As he got closer to her center, her breaths came more and more quickly.   
He chuckled low in his throat. “Better calm down a bit, darling. I’ve not even started.”  
He moved in to where she needed him most. He bothered no more with the teasing. It wasn’t necessary. She was wound up painfully tight, and was ready for release. His lips and tongue moved over her with deft precision. He knew her body so well; knew exactly where and how she needed contact. She swiveled her hips in time with his movements, attempting to advance her pleasure. The addition of his sinfully long fingers to the already heavy arsenal he was using made her gasp. It only took only a few passes after their addition to send her completely into oblivion. She couldn’t make a sound as her muscles spasmed and relaxed alternately in response to her climax. She finally let out a low grunt as he soothed her with soft kisses and gentle licks.   
“You’re beautiful like this, you know. Wrecked from pleasure. And I’m all the more pleased by it knowing that I’m the cause of it.” He said, in between the kisses he placed on his way up to her mouth.   
“You should be pleased with yourself! No one has ever made me feel the way you do. Ever.”  
She pulled him the rest of the way up to her lips and kissed him deeply. Not with pressure, but with intensity, putting all that she felt for him into this one kiss. He apparently felt it all, because he returned the action in his own way.   
She rolled him over so she was atop him, “I think it’s my turn to be the dominant one.” A devilish grin spreading over her kind face all the way to her eyes.   
“As you wish, mistress.” He replied with a giggle.  
“Oh, I see why you like to be called ‘sir.’ It’s quite empowering!”  
She scooted down to undo his jeans, letting out a low, deep moan upon seeing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. “Naughty boy!” She scolded, yanking off the trousers. “I would punish you for this if I didn’t need you so badly.”  
She found his hard, swollen flesh, and tended to it, momentarily, with her hands and mouth. A few tugs, and a couple of circuits with her mouth and tongue and she was sure he was as ready for her as she was for him.   
She repositioned herself over him, locked eyes with him, and lowered herself onto him. They moved together in perfect rhythm, breathing in almost immediate synchronization. She pinned his arms up above his head and kissed him again, hard, making him moan into her mouth. A few more seconds and they were coming apart in each other’s embrace. Molly collapsed on top of Sherlock, listening to his rapid heartbeat as it decreased in time with hers. He drew soothing circles over her back and shoulder blades.   
“Molly, are you very tired?”  
“Not really, why?” she answered lazily, not proving the statement with her tone. She rolled onto her back to stretch and he rolled to his side.  
“I just thought…maybe you’d like to…I dunno…”  
“What is it, Sherlock?” she asked, trying to keep worry out of her voice. She sat up and faced him, caressing his shoulder in hopes of comforting him enough for him to spill.  
“Well, maybe…you’d like to…reverse roles?” his tentative question made her giggle.  
“Sherlock, do you want me to tie you to the bed, now?”  
“Yes!” he answered hopefully.  
She smacked him hard on the arsecheek she could most easily reach. He gasped.  
“Yes, what?” she barked, authoritatively.  
“Yes…mistress!”   
“That’s better! Now, where’s that riding crop?”  
To be continued…


	2. A further Study in Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His request was most welcome, if unexpected. She loved exploring his perfect body every opportunity that arose. And she wouldn’t have him rushing her through anything this time. She could savor it. Take her time. As she removed his jeans and adorned him with the restraints, she could hear his breathing quicken; feel his pulse racing in his wrist; she could swear she could actually see the blood speeding through his jugular entwined with the tendons in his neck.

“Mr. Holmes, every cell in your body now belongs to me. You will do as I say, and acknowledge my words when they require it. The safe word you put into effect at the beginning of the evening will continue to serve its purpose for the remainder of the night’s activities. Do you understand?” Molly spoke with authority.  
“Yes mistress.” Sherlock said with an almost imperceptible whimper.   
“Good.”   
Where should she begin? The sight of him naked and taut like this turned her brain to mush. She walked over to where the riding crop had ended up earlier and picked it up. She walked back over to the bed, grabbed the blindfold from the nightstand and put it on him.   
She proceeded by tickling him lightly with the soft suede wrist loop on the handled end, dragging it along his skin in random patterns. Then, she deftly flipped the crop around in her hand and delivered a sharp pop to his inner thigh, tantalizingly close to his manhood. He stifled a whimper.  
“Good boy, Mr. Holmes. You’re a natural at submission.”  
Sherlock gulped, “Th-Thank you, mistress.”  
“Nervous, are we, Mr. Holmes? You didn’t think I’d cause you any pain there, did you?” she said with an air of sarcasm.  
“I trust mistress completely!” he said with as much confidence as he could muster under the circumstances.  
“And quite right to!” She laid another lick of the crop on the creamy skin at his hips, adding another patch of pink to the pale. “Oh that stung didn’t it?”  
“A bit, mistress.” Sherlock answered demurely, not wanting to fully express what he was feeling, good or bad.  
“We can’t have you in too much pain, Mr. Holmes, or you won’t want me doing this again!” She tossed the crop aside and walked over to the mini-fridge. She pulled out the ice bucket and stalked back to the bed, very much looking like the cat who ate the canary.   
“Maybe this will help.” She picked up an ice cube and ran it from his hip up to his opposite pec in a zig-zag fashion. Then she popped it into her mouth, chased it with another and began delivering soft fire and ice kisses to his chest and torso. She spent several minutes on his long, graceful, slender neck, dropping chilling kisses from his clavicle to just below his ear, several times on both sides. That little dip between the Adam’s apple and his sternum got a lot of attention, as well, as it was one of her favorites of his features.  
She worked diligently and unhurriedly over his pecs, bringing his nipples to attention, and leisurely made her way down his abdomen to his package. When her mouth grazed him, he stiffened and pulled at his restraints. She grinned smugly and continued teasing his swollen flesh. He was already ready to make things happen, but she was in the mood for delayed gratification. She started to intensify her movements, bringing him almost to his release and then moving to a less sensitive part of the body. When he’d calmed down, she began her assault on his manhood again, only to deny him once more. When she’d finished devouring his defined hip bones, she moved back to where he needed her, and began to tease his most sensitive flesh again.  
He groaned, with a hint of pain, a barely audible “please!”   
“Would you like some relief, Mr. Holmes?”  
“Oh, God, yes! Please, Mistress! Please, Molly!”  
Despite it not being in the rules of the Dom/sub relationship, it melted her heart to hear him plead to her so fervently and using her own name.  
“Alright then, hang on tight! Oh wait, you’re not going anywhere!” she chuckled evilly.  
She expertly worked her mouth and hands over him, making him, though he couldn’t fathom it, even more ready for her. He was sure he wouldn’t last, but then she stopped, climbed up his torso to his wrists, and freed them for a moment. She pinned them both above his head with one hand, while she aligned their bodies with the other. As soon as their bodies were flush with each other, she whipped off the blindfold, took one of his wrists in each hand and planted them on either side of his head, pinning them to the bed again.   
“Ready?” she asked, knowing the answer.  
He looked at her incredulously, “Oh, only for the last twenty minutes of torture! ...I mean…if mistress is ready!” He corrected after her eyebrow jumped halfway to her hairline on her forehead.  
“Right, then.” And she began rocking against him, his flesh creating welcome friction with hers. The way they were breathing and moving together was almost a dance. A dance to the music of their own exclamations, pleas, and expletives. Molly straightened her back and pulled Sherlock up with her, wrapping his arms around her torso and slinging hers around his neck. She pulled his head to hers so she could kiss him, the need to be as close to him as humanly possible almost overwhelming. His hands were hungry for her skin, roaming over her shoulders, back and rear, gently squeezing and caressing every inch of her he could reach. She responded in kind, threading her fingers through his sultry chocolate locks, from the base of his skull to the crown, tugging ever so slightly on the follicles she knew were so sensitive.  
His breath caught in his throat, he breathlessly whispered her name, and his warmth fill her. These things combined sent her into her climax only seconds later, and she collapsed once again on top of his chest, whispering “Sherlock!”  
She looked up at him and grinned. The soppiest smile adorned his face.   
“What’s on your mind, Mr. Holmes?”  
“Oh I was just thinking about the torture you put me through and how utterly well worth it that was!”  
He rolled her gently off of him, kissing her forehead, and turned around to the jar of skin cream on the bedside table. He removed the lid, got a generous measure on his fingers, and began working it into her skin that was still slightly pink from their earlier exploits.  
“I’m also thinking about all the stuff in this room we DIDN’T use!” he glanced longingly at an intimidating collection of straps hanging from an A-frame like some sort of swing.  
“Well, we’ve got the room for a couple of days! Let’s pace ourselves!” Molly said, sounding excited, but almost daunted at the prospect of the time and potential activities.  
“Yes, mistress!” and he kissed her chastely on her lips, excited at what the next few days had in store!

 

Fin


End file.
